


Family

by Rsjessen



Series: Week of Orwal [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drabble, Dwarf Culture, F/M, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rsjessen/pseuds/Rsjessen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t say anything. Simply looked at Dwalin, silently begging the older one to look him in the eyes and say one last proper goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I'm writing all this angst these days. Perhaps working in a daycare and having to be all 'happy-go-lucky' all the time, is finally getting to me. Or maybe I'm listening to too much Sigur Ros.

“I’m sorry, Imp.”

Dwalin’s eyes couldn’t decide where to look, he knew if he glanced at the scribe for even one second, all his resolve would go away. He would simply pick up with younger one, throw him over the shoulder, and take off to some other place. A place where he didn’t have to do this. 

Family was everything in Dwarven society. On the road it hadn’t seemed so important, family and status didn’t really matter when you were neck-deep and fighting for not only your life, but the future of your entire kin. 

But now, here, Dwalin was a respectable dwarf, from a high-up family. His brother hadn’t married and never would, so the job fell to Dwalin. He didn’t have the right to choose anymore. 

He had found a gal already. A sweet lass, kind-faced, with a big love for cooking and a even bigger love for learning. She was much like his sweet Ori, but not enough. She wasn’t him. 

Ori understood, of course, he had known for a while, perhaps even before they got together, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less. 

He didn’t say anything. Simply looked at Dwalin, silently begging the older one to look him in the eyes and say one last proper goodbye. When it didn’t happen, he nodded once – although he knew the warrior didn’t see it – and turned around. 

The next day he would leave for Moria, leaving Dwalin behind who promised himself every year, that he wouldn’t write, wouldn’t keep in touch. For the pain wasn’t something he would be able to stand. And thus, they never spoke again.


End file.
